


Fire, Danger, and All

by static_abyss



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-03 13:38:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13342371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/static_abyss/pseuds/static_abyss
Summary: Here is the thing they don't tell you about babies. They're soft and fragile and everything in the world is a danger to them. You can't leave them alone for one second because then they've crawled somewhere they're not supposed to. They're so trusting. They don't care who you are, because as long as you feed them and pretend to be soft, they'll love you.So, Dean's got a baby in his arms, small little thing with dark hair and big blue eyes. This baby knows nothing. This baby is nothing."You don't know how lucky you are," Dean tells the baby. "If I could unlearn everything I know, let me tell you."





	Fire, Danger, and All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkHeartInTheSky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkHeartInTheSky/gifts).



> Many good wishes to DarkHeatInTheSky. Hope you had amazing holidays and enjoy the fic!

Here is the thing they don't tell you about babies. They're soft and fragile and everything in the world is a danger to them. You can't leave them alone for one second because then they've crawled somewhere they're not supposed to. They're so trusting. They don't care who you are, because as long as you feed them and pretend to be soft, they'll love you. 

But more than that, babies, Dean has come to understand, don't know anything. They don't know the world ended, or that Sam was once possessed by Lucifer. They don't know about demons and witch hunts, or fires and dead fathers. They never knew Benny or Kevin, or Jo. They don't know that Death is gone, that angels aren't actually that great, that once, a long time ago, Dean believed even if he didn't let himself think too hard about why.

So, he's got a baby in his arms, small little thing with dark hair and big blue eyes. This baby knows nothing. This baby is nothing.

"You don't know how lucky you are," Dean tells the baby. "If I could unlearn everything I know, let me tell you."

The baby blinks wide blue eyes up at Dean, his little hands tucked into the green blanket he's wrapped in. Sam will be out of the bathroom in a minute. He'd yelled it out when Dean stepped into the motel room with the baby in his arms. The baby that was once Castiel, but Dean will explain that to Sam later. Right now what matters is that even though Dean would never do anything to hurt Castiel, much less a baby, he kind of wishes he were anywhere but here. 

"Hey, Dean," Sam says, bringing Dean out his thoughts. "Dean...what? Is that a baby?"

Dean glances around the motel they're staying at, dark blue curtain over two large windows, light beige walls, a table and chairs by one side, two beds on the opposite wall. Castiel's coat is thrown over the bed on the right, and Dean's things are on the bed on the left. Sam is just coming out of the bathroom in front of Dean. He's got his duffle bag in one hand, his eyes glued to the bundle in Dean's arms. 

And yeah, Dean knows who he's holding. He's got a baby in his arms and a whole mess in his head. It's great, really, how life never lets Dean forget what his purpose is. There's never an escape, never is going to be one, if Dean is being honest. He was born to serve, whether that's heaven, hell, Sam, John, his mother Mary, or whatever, Dean's only purpose in life is to be backup, to be useful to someone else. 

_"It's not fair,"_ Dean had told his mom. 

It isn't, never has been. Dean's life has never been his, but he's never let himself linger over it. Not until Mary came back and it was all Dean could think about. How everything would have been different if his mother had never made a deal with a demon. How Dean might have gone to school, might have even fallen in love one day. How Sam would have grown up with someone good, someone who didn't burn his ravioli, or who could feed him something other than cold cereal. But then again, maybe not, maybe Sam might have just grown up with someone who made deals with demons. 

It didn't matter much anymore, because Dean had forgiven Mary, and wondering what could have been will do him no good. But it's like the whole believing thing; sometimes he can't help it.

Dean has a baby in his arms, and even if that baby is Castiel, there's still a baby in Dean's arms. Another baby for him to ruin, another thing to poison. Dean has never been good enough at taking care of the people he loves. It's why Sam ran away the first chance he got, because Dean just wasn't a good enough reason for Sam to stay. 

"I need you to take him," Dean says, holding out Castiel to Sam.

"Dean," Sam says, taking a step back. "Why do you have a baby?"

Dean smothers the flash of irritation he feels and takes a step closer. "Take the baby, Sam," he says.

"Why?" Sam asks. 

Dean grits his teeth. He's never going to say that some part of him will always be afraid of ruining all the good in his life. That Castel is a baby now and Dean doesn't have a great track record with fragile things. Sam would just argue if Dean ever said any of it aloud. They don't have the time for that now. 

They don't have time for that ever.

"I have to use the bathroom," Dean says, instead. "I'm not taking a baby into the bathroom."

Sam hesitates, and Dean takes the chance to push Castiel into his arms. Dean concentrates on his breathing, tries to seem like he's walking and not almost running for the bathroom door. 

"Dean," Sam calls, just as Dean is closing the bathroom door behind him. "Why does this baby look like Castiel?"

*

"There was a witch," Dean says. "There's always a witch."

Castiel is on his bed, kicking at the ceiling and making low cooing noises. Sam is sitting on the right side, Dean on the left. 

"So, it's a spell," Sam says. 

Dean shrugs, watching as Castiel tries to reach his left foot with his right hand. He tips in slow motion towards Dean's side of the bed, Casiel's eyes going wide as he falls over, his little hand tight around his foot. Dean snorts, reaching out a hand to tip Castiel right side up again.

"You know we can't keep him right?" Sam asks. 

He's grinning, like Dean's heart isn't racing. There was Sam. There was Ben. There were all the times someone smiled at Dean and he thought about home, and it was fire and danger. 

"I can barely handle Cas when he's wiping his own ass, you really think I want to play babysitter for the next eighteen years?" Dean asks.

Sam shakes his head, but he's grinning, like the little shit thinks he knows what's going on in Dean's head.

"You'd be good with kids," Sam says, like it's easy and true. 

"We're hunters," Dean says. 

"I know," Sam says, shrugging. "I didn't say you had to have kids. Just said you'd be good with them."

"We're not keeping him, Sam," Dean says. "Castiel isn't going to stay a baby."

Sam raises his hands in defense, but he's still smiling. "All right," he says. "Okay. We drive back to the bunker. I do some research. We change Cas back. Deal?"

Dean looks at baby Castiel on the bed, with his big blue eyes and all that dark hair. Castiel blinks as he watches Dean, his little hands reaching out. Dean slips his index finger into Castiel's hand and Castiel holds on. Dean knows it's what kids do reflexively, but he can't help the way his heart goes tight. Sam used to hold on just like that when he was small.

"Let's go," Dean says.

Castiel squirms on the bed and Dean already had his breakdown in the bathroom, he can handle baby Castiel. 

*

Once, when Dean was really drunk on cheap whiskey from a gas station in Phoenix, he told Castiel he loved him.

"But, like, I get it," Dean had said. "We're never going to have kids or get married. That's not what I want."

"What do you want?" Castiel had asked.

Dean had thought of Lisa then, about how whenever he tried for normal, it all blew up in his face. He thought of raising Sam, of the low hum of constant fear that ran through his veins while he was growing up. He thought of Mary, how she'd died and then come back, how she'd broken Dean's heart, and how a broken heart was just what Dean always got. 

He hadn't had a mother or a father for as long as he could remember, and he wasn't bitter about it. He wasn't. Bitterness had given way to sadness, which had given away to fear and eventually to nothing, a long time ago. Dean just kind of wished it was all over, that whatever he was supposed to learn, or whatever was supposed to happen just happened so that Dean could go back to just living. To surviving. 

He was done with seeing his mother and knowing that he could never have that life, the one where he came home and she was there to take care of him, the one where he learned how to take care of fragile things. When Mary hadn't existed, at least Dean could pretend to be okay. Now that she was back, he knew it would never be okay. He would never be okay with not being enough. 

"I want what I already have Cas," Dean had said, eventually. "I just want my family; you, me and Sam."

Castiel had smiled, slow and sweet, and Dean thought of home, and it was fire and danger. 

"I can't promise I won't leave you," Castiel had said.

Dean had grinned, had remembered that Castiel was an angel, but more than that, Castiel was home, fire, danger, and all.

"I can't promise I won't either, Cas," Dean had said.

*

They're back in the bunker, Sam in the back reading through large books on spells. Dean is in what passes for their dining room sitting with his legs up on the long table. Castiel's head is by Dean's knees, his feet curled up along Dean's thighs. Dean knows he's holding Castiel. He knows the sleeping baby in his lap is temporary, but it sets him on edge anyway, because if Castiel ever had a baby, Dean imagines he would look like this. Small, with pale skin and shocking black hair, curled up in a green blanket, safe and comforted. If Castiel ever had a baby, Dean knows it would feel like this; right and honest. 

If Dean ever had a son.

But no.

Dean has had his time. He'd raised Sam and there Sam was, better than Dean could ever hope to be, good to the deepest parts of his bones. He'd been possessed by Lucifer and had come back with no soul, and he was still good after all of that. So Dean hadn't ruined Sam. He hadn't ruined Ben either. But that didn't mean he'd be as lucky a third time, not after everything that had happened. Not after all the deaths, all the disappointments. Not after Mary had come back. 

"I would be a shitty father," Dean tells the sleeping baby. "I drink too much and I don't like to talk about anything. I'm kind of like Bobby, only worse. I'd be better than my old man, that's for sure. But that's not really saying much."

Baby Castiel yawns, his eyes closed tight against the light. Dean reaches out automatically to make sure Castiel doesn't fall out of his lap. His fingertips brush against soft hair, warm skin. 

"I wouldn't want to ruin this," Dean says, to no one, to everyone. 

He doesn't really pray anymore, but this moment feels the closest he has ever gotten to praying again. Dean is afraid because he wants to be a father so much, deep down it's all he wants. Deep down where he never lets himself go, he thinks he would be a good dad, because he would love his kid so much. But he can't let himself go down that deep, because Mary loved her kids and John loved his kids and Dean is what they have to show for it. 

"I need you to come back Cas," Dean whispers. "Baby you is just messing me up." 

"Dean?" Sam calls softly from behind. 

Dean tilts his head to let Sam know he's listening. 

"I found the spell," Sam says.

He's quiet, and Dean knows better than to think Sam didn't hear him. 

"Good," Dean says, picking up the sleeping baby. He's careful not to wake Castiel, because Dean isn't prepared for a tantrum. He isn't prepared for anything really. Not a child, not the feelings that came with seeing something so close to what he's been wanting for a long time. Cas's kid. Dean's kid.

He stands and holds Castiel out to Sam. "Here," Dean says. "Change him back."

"Dean," Sam starts.

But Dean is already out the door and he doesn't catch the rest of what Sam says. 

*

Dean expects it to hurt when he sees Castiel standing tall and grinning next to Sam. He even expects the pang of loss when Dean looks at Sam's arms and doesn't see a baby. It doesn't last too long, nothing more than a moment where Dean sees a future he might have been able to have, and then chooses to walk away from it. Because to walk away is to walk right back into Castiel's arms and Sam's eye rolls, back to family, back to where Dean has always been sure he belonged. 

This is the life Dean Winchester has chosen, and he knows better than to have regrets.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of feelings with regards to Dean Winchester. This fic is but a small sample of those feelings.


End file.
